Native Tongues Up North

Our vacation in Borneo was fantastic. The people, the food, the sun, it was all great. Remind me to tell you about it sometime. But between the sunburns, and the heat rashes, we needed a change. We looked over our options, and narrowed it down to a few places with a milder climate. The only problem was, the assignments were mild as well. Then our editor walked in with what he thought was a nice change.

"I don't mean any disrespect, but are you nuts?" my wife gasped. We were stunned by his suggestion. Sure, we wanted cooler weather, but Greenland? What was he thinking?

"No, I'm serious. I heard rumor that our competition was planning a story up there, but as of yet, they haven't got it. As usual, I want to be the first, and you guys are the only ones who could pull this off." He gave us those puppy dog eyes, as he waited for our answer.

"Damn it. When do we leave?" my wife said with a tone of defeat.

He was all smiles when he told us that he already had us booked for Tuesday. He whistled a tune as he strode back to his office, knowing we would come through for him. Again.

"That bastard." she grinned. "He knew all along we would go."

"I guess that's why he's the boss." I quipped.

We started checking weather reports as soon as we got home, to help us decide what we needed to wear.

"It's 0 right now." I said nonchalantly. She just glared at me. "Must be having a heat wave." I added.

She now flipped me off. She doesn't do cold very well. I looked over the brief description of the people we would be covering. "It says here, that these people are somewhat civilized, and supposedly have a lot of modern conveniences. They are suppose to be a lot like us."

"Yeah, right. Bet they all have ice makers too." she said snidely.

Not much was said on the flight, as this wasn't like a trip to the tropics. We just wanted to get this over with. Our first stop was in Nuk, on the south west coast. The cold wind stung our faces, as we ran for the terminal.

"Jeez it's cold out there!" my wife exclaimed, as she rubbed her hands together. Even though we were protected from the wind, it was still cold inside. She stopped an old timer as he walked slowly across the room.

"Excuse me, do you know how cold it is out there?" she shivered.

"Well...today it's about 20 degrees out, but they say it might start getting cold tomorrow. Better enjoy the nice weather while it lasts!" he said as he shuffled by.

These people sure know how to piss my wife off.

We warmed ourselves with hot cocoa while we waited for the next flight to leave. Another small commuter plane would take us to a spot just south of Cape Morris Jesup. The Eskimos here fish during the summer, but would be holed up around this time of the year.

Our plane landed on a bumpy airstrip in what looked like nowhere. Other than the tarmac, everything was white. Several cars and trucks were lined up waiting for the visitors. Some of the cars had cardboard boxes on their roofs, with names scrawled on them. My wife, in her desperation to get out of the cold, spotted our name first. It was an old four wheel drive with smoke coming out the exhaust, and all the windows were frosted over. We could see a small circle appear on the drivers window,as the driver cleared a spot to peer out from. We waved to him as we hurried towards his vehicle. He smiled and nodded, but made no move to open a door, or help us with our stuff. We piled in quickly and shut the door behind us.

"Sorry I didn't help you there, but it's frickin' cold out there!" he said in amazingly good English.

We all laughed, as we pulled out towards our destination. The old truck was toasty warm, which made up for the bad roads we would have to endure for the next two hours.

"The villagers you are visiting, they are nothing special, why would you want to see them?" our driver asked.

"We just wanted to cover their culture, and show the world how people live in extreme conditions." I said as I started taking pictures of anything that wasn't white.

"But their lives are just like yours and mine, you'll see." There wasn't much to look at here, but he was sure to point out anything he could. At least he was trying to keep a conversation going.

"Hey, we're just about there!" he said as we passed no landmarks that I could discern. In just moments, we spotted what appeared to be an oversized outhouse. The wooden building couldn't have measured more than ten feet by ten feet. It was the only building one could see as the tundra spread for miles in every direction.

"You've got to be kidding!" my wife exclaimed, as we stared in disbelief.

"Nope, this is it!" the driver said with a grin.

"There must be some mistake!" My wife did not want to leave the warmth of the truck for this little shack.

"No mistake, but I think you will be surprised once you get inside. It's bigger than it looks." With that, he tooted his horn, and soon a fur covered Eskimo opened the door a crack. When he saw us, he hustled out to help us with our gear.

"Hurry up! Let's get back inside where it's warm!" he shouted as he grabbed a handful of boxes. Wow, people who speak English. This may not be too bad after all. I had to pull my wife out, as we waved to the driver. He tooted his horn, and was off again.

As soon as we were inside the door, we stomped our feet to clear them of snow and ice, and pulled the hoods back on our parkas, so we could see. As our eyes focused to the dim light, we could see nothing but four walls, and our guide standing in front of us, looking like a bear in all his furs. No furniture, no pictures, just a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. My wife and I looked at each other in wonder.

"Come on! Follow me!" the Eskimo said, as he turned, and walked towards the wall. His over sized fur coat had blocked our view of what was behind him, as he descended down a flight of stairs. We followed him in silence, the steps creaking softly.

When we landed at the bottom, we discovered what the driver had meant about being surprised. It was a small underground city. With all the lights and colors, you would have thought you were in Vegas. Well not quite, but it was amazing, nonetheless. People milling about dressed in jeans and tee shirts, playing games and watching TV. We were speechless, as we took in all of our surroundings.

"What? You thought we lived in igloos or something?" He laughed as he pushed us into the room. We found that many here spoke English, but many of the elders stuck with Danish, or some other dialect. They were all very friendly, and it was easy to gather a story. My wife found they had a medical clinic, but it was seldom staffed, so she took it upon herself to straighten things up, and put the clinic in working order.

It was explained to me, that during the winter months, all the children were sent south to a boarding school, and the only children who could stay, were under the age of four. This year there were only two young children, and there was a nursery that took care of them during the "Long Night".

"Long Night?" I asked.

"It has been a tradition for many generations." my new friend started. "It is when it stays dark for the longest period. The elders would tell stories, and the women would serve drinks and food to the men, as they all sat around a big fire. But it's never dark down here, and times have changed. We have no children here, and the babies are kept in a nursery for the celebration. Basically we get drunk and party for four days!" This assignment was looking better and better.

"The only problem we have now, is the lack of women. There are only six, two are in their sixties, and two alternate in the nursery, That leaves only two to serve and entertain almost thirty men."

"Entertain?" I wasn't sure what he meant by this.

"They used to sing and dance, but neither of these two can sing, and watching them dance can get boring after awhile. That's why we usually end up just drinking."

"My wife is great at entertaining, maybe she could help out." Of course, I didn't tell him what kind of entertainment she was best at.

"That would be great! the others will be very happy!"

I wandered around until I found my wife, and suggested we change into something a little cooler. Our room was equal to that in a nice hotel. It was very plush, with a large bathroom, a TV, and even a fireplace. We took a bath together in the oversized bathtub, washing each other's back, as I told her of the "Long Night".

She was standing next to our bed wrapped in a towel, deciding what to wear. I decided what she would wear for the next few minutes as I pulled her towel off. We laid back on the king sized bed and fondled each other. She slid down the bed, as was her custom when we were on the road, and took my cock into her warm mouth. Her intentions were to suck me for a awhile, then fuck my brains out. But I was so horny and comfortable, that after only two minutes of her tongue work, I unexpectedly began to blast. The first shot caught her off guard, but she quickly wrapped her lips tightly around my head, and sucked hard. I felt bad about cumming so fast, so I crawled down between her legs. I would try to pleasure her the way she pleasured me. I figured by the time I got her off, I would be ready to fuck HER brains out. I gently licked and kissed, not wanting to hurry the moment. Her hips began to move as soft moans escaped her lips. As I worked my tongue slowly around her clit, I decided it was time. I took her clit between my lips, and as I sucked on it, I flicked the tip of my tongue over it. She was just about to see fireworks when...

Knock knock. "Hey, it's almost dinner time! Don't be late!" We heard the knock and the voice repeat itself a little further down the hall. What a mood buster.

"God, I was so close!" my wife said, her legs still trembling from her near climax. We got up and threw some clothes on.

"I'll make it up to you later." I promised.

As we walked down the long corridor, I explained that I had volunteered her to help with the festivities.

"But I don't know anything about these people. How am I suppose to help?"

I knew what I wanted her to do, but we would have to play it by ear. "I'm sure you'll do just fine. Besides, after awhile, everybody will be drunk anyway."

As we sat down at the long table, people started talking to us from all directions. It seems they don't get many visitors here, and it creates a lot of excitement when strangers show up. We tried hard to keep up with all of them, and it was really fun. At one point, my wife asked what we would be eating, and the gentleman sitting across from us responded with, "Fish eyes and squid." You could have heard a pin drop as my wife's jaw almost hit the floor. They all stopped to see her reaction as the gentleman spoke again.

"Just kidding! There will be fruits and salads and steaks and lobster and...well, just about everything!" He broke into a smile and soon we were all laughing.

My wife was worried she might have to put something salty and slimy in her mouth. Little did she know...

The meal was fantastic, and the liquor had already begun to flow. The two women were showing signs of fatigue, as they worked to clear the tables, and refill glasses. My wife jumped up and began to help them. Their faces beamed with the gratitude they felt with her there. They soon were chatting as if they were old friends, laughing at jokes only they were privy to.

After things were cleaned up, the two women escorted my wife down the hall. On her way past, she whispered,

"They have some cooler clothes for me to wear!"

We hadn't thought to bring anything light to wear because, after all, this is Greenland.

They seemed to be gone for a long time, no doubt plotting something for us men. Suddenly there was silence, followed by whistles and catcalls, as the three women reentered the room. All three had on sheer blouses with lacy bras underneath, and short skirts with stockings. Even though the Eskimos up here are dark skinned, they were a bit paler than my well tanned wife. The difference was made even more obvious when any of them bent over to refill a drink, as one could see bare skin peeking out over the tops of their stockings. It was quite a contrast however, as my wife was blond, and they had jet black hair. All three were beautiful. As the night went on, we all started getting drunk. One of the men, at one point, reached out and patted one of the girls butt. It then became a game, as the two native girls got groped every few minutes. But no one touched my wife. I leaned over to my friend and said,

"Boy, it looks like my poor wife is missing out on all the action."

He smiled and leaned back towards me, "That's because the men all respect you, and don't want to upset you. These other two, well... they aren't exactly sluts, but then there not exactly virgins either. They will let us have some fun before they draw the line."

"Well. not only would it not upset me, but it would upset my wife if she knew she was being left out."

"You don't mind if we touch her? She is quite beautiful!"

"Touch all you want, if she has enough, she will let you know!" With that, he leaned over to his other side and whispered to his friend. Soon the word had spread to the entire table, and each man was eagerly awaiting her to return from the kitchen.

I saw her exit the galley with a pitcher of strawberry daiquiris, and I wondered who would be the first to pinch her butt. She strolled right up to me, and stood between me and my friend, as she refilled the glasses. As she bent over, I winked at my comrade behind her back. He actually ran his hand up under her skirt, and caressed her butt, as she poured. She didn't flinch, however she shot a glance right at me.

"You don't mind, do you?" I asked her with an innocent look on my face.

"It's about time someone grabbed me! I thought I was losing my touch!" she grinned as she moved down the line. Each man saw what the last had done, and by the time she reached the end of the long table, the last guy there had worked two fingers up inside of her. She stood there for a moment, enjoying the sensation, then politely backed out to refill her pitcher. The man looked at his glistening fingers, then popped them in his mouth, sucking them clean.

At one point throughout the night, all the girls removed their bras, letting their breasts sway freely under the gauze and mesh material. My wife had the largest set, and most of the men made it a point to fondle them as often as they could get away with it. I was afraid the other two girls would get jealous at all the attention my wife was receiving, but it was just the opposite. They even jokingly fondled each other as they passed by the tables.

Soon the men began passing out in the big room, and the loud talk was replaced by the occasional snore. My buddy turned to me and told me that nobody goes back to their room during the "Long Night", they just sleep for awhile, then wake up and continued where they left off.

"Does anybody...you know...mess around during the festivities?" I asked, wondering if any real sex would be involved.

"If a woman were willing, these guys would be all over her, but like I said before, the two women are teasers, they will only go so far."

I got up to stretch my legs, and found my wife taking a breather in the kitchen.

"So, how are you doing?" I asked her.

"Man, this is a lot of work, I don't see how these two keep going. And if you don't take me back to the room and fuck me soon, I'm going to burst! All those fingers sure made me horny!"

"Uh...we can't go back to the room. It's part of their tradition to stay together for the duration."

"You mean no sex for four entire days?"

"Uh...I didn't say that..."

"Then what exactly are you saying?" she looked at me out of the corner of her eye.

"Apparently the guys would love to be...you know...entertained so to speak, but it seems your two friends only tease. Maybe you could talk to them...or something."

I got up, kissed her, and departed back to the battlefield where men were scattered all about in various stages of rest. Rather than go back to the long table, I opted for one of the comfy couches in the corner. From here, I could observe the whole group. They were so different from my culture, and yet they were so similar. When I first walked down the stairs, they all looked the same, but now, after spending several hours with them, I can recognize a few, and even remember some of their names.

It was about twenty minutes later when the kitchen doors swung open, and the three ladies came marching out. Something tells me my wife had a long pep talk with them. Five feet into the room, they stopped. My wife in front, hands on her hips, surveyed the area. The two girls flanked her, waiting for her command. She whispered to one and pointed in one direction, then whispered to the other, and pointed across the room. Both girls bee-lined for their targets, as my wife headed for my new friend, who was still seated at the long table. He was fading in and out, when he realized someone was trying to pull his zipper down. He flinched as she extracted his brown cock from it's confines and started by running the tip of her tongue up and down his rising shaft. He looked around in a panic, searching the room, until his eyes met mine. I smiled and nodded, and the look of fear subsided, as the look of pleasure replaced it.

It was almost like a "Where's Waldo" puzzle, as I now searched the room to locate the other two girls. Both were suprising their men with their first attempts at blow jobs. They appeared to be fast learners as I could hear the occasional moan from distant corners of the room. My friend was the first victim under the skillful tongue of my beautiful wife. His chair squeaked across the floor as his legs straightened out under the stress of his first orgasm in who knows how long. The other two men weren't far behind, as they enjoyed the relief bestowed upon them. They appeared to cum at almost the same time, as one of the girls yelped when the first stream of hot cum splashed across her face. The other tried to swallow her load, but choked, and coughed. All three girls started to giggle at this faux pas, and ran back to the kitchen. They emerged a moment later, and as before, my wife directed them to two more men, as she sauntered around, searching out her next victim. One of the men was sound asleep, and jumped as the girl ran her hands up his thighs, almost knocking her to the ground. The men were starting to stir, and were soon wide awake when they saw what was happening. My wife stopped in front of me and smiled.

"You know, neither of those two girls ever blew a man before, and their both in their mid twenties! But they seem to enjoy the power they have."

She winked at me and walked away, stopping at the nearest man, and kneeling down in front of him. I was mesmerized by her talent and beauty, when my buddy plopped down next to me, nearly scaring the crap out of me.

"Man, you sure are one lucky guy, to have a woman like that! How many guys do think she'll do tonight?" He nudged me, and I looked at him as he handed me a drink.

"I suppose she'll do all of them." I said nonchalantly.

"Whoa, this will be the start of a whole new tradition around here!" We laughed as the party seemed to be back in full swing again.

The long day was getting to me, as I slowly drifted off to sleep. In the back of my mind, I could hear the occasional moan and groan, and wondered who was filling my wife's mouth this time.

It may have been hours, or maybe only minutes when I woke up. I sat there for a moment trying to get my bearings, and began scanning the room for my wife. She was probably asleep in the kitchen. There were people all over again, shouting and laughing. As I neared the long table, I noticed a small crowd gathered around. It must be breakfast, I thought, as I walked up to the end, searching for a plate. I must have been half asleep, because I didn't notice my wife there before. She was sandwiched between two guys right there on the table. Straddling one with both her legs dangling off the sides, while the other was pumping furiously in and out of her tight little butt. Her eyes were glazed over, and sweat dripped off her chin, as she struggled for her next orgasm. It wasn't long in coming as it swept through her like wildfire. Her teeth were gritted as she jerked around between the panting men.